


A Temporary Solution (A Permanent Problem)

by orphan_account



Category: Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: Angst, But not all the time, Child Murder, Determination (Undertale), Existential Angst, Existential Crisis, Gen, How Do I Tag, I think?, Introspection, Judge Sans (Undertale), Needles, Sans (Undertale) Remembers Resets, True Lab (Undertale), Undertale Genocide Route, Undertale Saves and Resets, determination is blood, he also sleeps to up his hp past 1, idk how to tag this, like he only starts remembering yours on the first genocide, like in the inns, mainly just implied tho, no beta we die like men, ok i think im done, sans totally vents to endogeny, sans uses a spinny chair, wait no i forgot one, ya boy got major depression
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-26
Updated: 2020-10-26
Packaged: 2021-03-08 22:42:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,369
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27204001
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: Sans spilled innocent blood and it only comes back to haunt him.(Basically my take on why Sans bleeds)
Comments: 3
Kudos: 40





	A Temporary Solution (A Permanent Problem)

"it just seems so weird, endogeny," Sans muttered to the amalgamation as he worked. "that flower, in the hall... it acted like it knew who i was. that can't be, right?" Sans questioned, turning around on his spinny chair to face Endogeny. He sighed. "i must be going crazy. i couldn't even judge it. it's like there was no soul to..." he paused, realization evident on his face. "...no soul to..." He clamped his mouth shut. Endogeny tilted their head. Sans looked towards them with a wary expression. "it can't be an echo flower. there's just no way. it was talking to me, responding to me, so..." He rubbed his temples. "the vessel alph and i chose. with the determination. timelines, timelines, timelines," He mumbled, tiredly. "i need a break, but i'm so close to figuring this out." 

Sans gripped a pen and started jotting things on a notepad, desperate for answers. "determination, weird memory, soulless vessel, blah, blah, blah," Sans banged his head on the desk, his hp going down by one. Face still on the desk, he checked himself, only to see his current hp of 23/1. Endogeny bounded toward him and rubbed against him, concerned, but he only groaned. "i know, i know. it's 4 am. i'm on 23. i should sleep." Endogeny frantically shook their head. "no? what is it, then?" Sans lifted his head to look at Endogeny, who began to paw at the words determination, timelines, and memory in that order, flicking goo all over the paper. "determination, timelines, memory? determination, timelines... oh."

There was a beat of silence, before Sans spoke up again. “...you remember, don’t you? your body’s lasting through time and space.” Endogeny looked towards the ground. Clearly discouraged by their sadness, Sans reached out a gloved hand to scratch their head. “it’s alright, bud. it’s okay,” he declared. “i understand, but first…” he trailed off, before standing up. He began to walk away, taking his strides with purpose, before stopping in the doorway.

“... i have to take care of something.”

\---

Sans has never liked needles. No one really does, unless you’re insane, but needles? No thank you. And this needle was nearly the size of a finger but… There’s no way out of this. He has to do what he has to do. Gripping the syringe in a shaking hand over his arm, the sleeve rolled up to his shoulder, he prepared himself for the pain. It’s just like a normal shot. It’d be fine. Before he could second-guess himself, he took a deep breath and plunged the shot into his arm.

As soon as his bone was pierced, he cried out in pain, only to realize that his teeth wouldn’t separate, nor would his mouth close. His body felt as if it was splitting apart, breaking at its seams, and it was, but he told himself it was for the greater good. Shakily, he realized he had stopped pumping the determination into himself. With these humans’ blood on his hands, he has to put it to use. Taking another deep breath, he pressed the syringe deeper into his bone marrow.

\--

Sans was in the hall again, memory intact, barely holding onto his body that threatened to melt. He ignored the sensation. The flower would be back soon. He had to be there, he had to be ready. And ready he was, and although the flower thought itself to be as well, it was mistaken.

Again and again the flower died, again and again Sans taunted it. It was a cycle. It stayed a cycle. Again and again, Sans walked up to find his brother’s scarf, only for it to dust in his hands. Again and again, Sans finally saw the surface, only for it to be stripped away. Again and again until the burden wore him down to exhaustion and even walking became a bore. He knew everything. He saw everything. All his drive was gone, run dry. And here he was thinking Gaster’s memory was bad.

This was so much worse.

\---

It had been awhile since everything had reset. Sans chalked this up to just normal Flowey things, but after a while, it was concerning. Sure, the cycle was repetitive, but it was comforting. It was his only constant, his lone tether to reality, no matter how often his brother died. So why had it been so long?

Apparently a human had fallen. The seventh one. Flowey would’ve reset by now, would’ve ruined their chances of freedom over and over. He had already done so. 

\---

Flowey popped out of the snow in front of Sans’ sentry station, shaking. He was terrified, and naturally this worried Sans. Flowey was never scared. They stared at each other for a while as Flowey tried to form a sentence. Sans was amused. “what? just spit it out, bud.” 

“The human, it-” he swallowed. “-It’s determined.” Sans rolled his eyes. “They all are, so what?” Flowey’s head shot up. “No! No, like… more than I am. So much more, I can’t reset.” Sans shot his relaxed head up, shocked. “you- you can’t?” Flowey shook his head. “They- no, no- It’s been resetting constantly. You never remember and I just- I don’t know what to do,” he said, voice shaking. “why don’t i remember?” Sans asked. Flowey didn’t respond. “flowey, why don’t i remember?”

“It has too much. You have way too little now. A single shot of that isn’t going to make you remember this,” he explained. “Please, just… take more. I don’t think I can do this alone.” Sans was shocked. Finally, the world had given him an out. He could escape this cycle, be ignorant again.

“no,” he replied, shaking his head. “no. this is your karma. i can’t take that torture again.”

\---

Papyrus was dead. The human was going on a killing spree. As the reports had shown, this was the one where everything just ended. Sans sat on his knees by his brother’s dust. He didn’t feel anything. He only felt empty. Entirely empty and emotionless, numb to the sight in front of him. Here he was thinking Flowey was the anomaly.

It took him a moment to realize that this emptiness wasn’t emptiness at all, but instead agony. Like when something’s so hot that it feels cold. He was falling down, and there’s nothing he can do. The timeline is doomed. A job can’t be done by a dead man. 

Unless he took drastic measures, at least. He didn’t want it to come down to this, but it has to. Using his last ounce of energy, he teleported himself into the lab.

\---

The injections hurt a lot less this time. He used more than the last, he could already feel himself falling apart. His one out, his one shot the universe had given him? Gone. He almost laughed to himself. One torture for another. Thrown right back into the cycle to aid in the fruitless quest of killing something that didn’t like to stay dead in the hopes that the world won’t disappear.

He chuckled to himself, and his laughter faded into sobs.

\---

He was dying. Blood, determination, it doesn’t matter. It’s the same thing. The blood from the children’s life he had taken, used against him in his last moments. He bled from his wounds, he bled from his mouth, and his body began to melt. He almost laughed at the irony of the situation. It seems as if the children got in the last laugh, finally taking their vengeance. The innocent blood he spilled now inside himself, torturing him in his every waking moment.

What did it matter, anyways. The world would be gone soon enough, and with it, his life.

\---

He awoke in his bed. His body still threatened to melt, but other than that, he was fine. Panic flooded his senses. This was so much worse than what he had pictured. As bad as it is, he had prayed for the world’s end, prayed for freedom of this torture, but it only came back to bite him.

Tears pricked at his eyes, but he didn’t dare move. He just stared at the ceiling, eyes dead, and awaited the sweet release of sleep. 


End file.
